darkest before the dawn
by MyVintageLove
Summary: When Mitchell decides to seek for help after the events at Box Tunnel 20, he changes his destiny. But little does he know, a Wolf-Shaped Bullet would have been less painful than what is awaiting them in a small hospital room. Still dormant, until the moment is right. He will rise.
1. intro

With the last episode of BH ever yesterday (urg, how sad), I couldn't stop my brain.

The story diverges from canon at the end of Type 4 (s03e04) and is pretty much an excuse to have Mitchell alive and an ending these four characters deserve.

This first chapter is more of an intro than anything, things will start to get more interesting in the next chapter, I swear.

* * *

The satchel falls on the ground but it doesn't startle Annie. She was waiting for him and, even if she doesn't face him yet, nothing real fazes her these days. He stands still by the counter, hands still holding the bag's strap, both of them waiting for the other one to talk first. _She knows_, he thinks. It would make things easier if she did, but she has no idea. Innocent lovely Annie who's already seen too many monsters for a lifetime. If only he could protect her from everything, especially from himself. But he can't. He's too selfish for that.

"I need to talk to you."

His words are followed by the silence of the living room as she slowly turns her head to look at him but doesn't reply. It's unfamiliar, this seriousness between them, especially when he thinks about Totterdown and snowstorms and laughing while making eta. He'd give anything to be back there, back to their happy shenanigans.

She nods, lips pursed. Mitchell hesitates, opening and closing his mouths several times, cursing his cowardice. He doesn't know how to explain or, rather, doesn't want her to pity him for what he's about to explain. Or worse, hate him, reject him. Especially after all that flirting that has been going on in the last couple of days. No. Especially since he needs her so much it's a question of life and death.

"Do you remember the first thing I said to you in Purgatory?"

She flinches at the memory of Hell but nods again nonetheless. "You saved me too." Her voice is weak, nothing more than a whisper and, if the frown on her brows is any indication, she's already putting the pieces together.

Slowly, as if she was a frighten doe that could run away from him at any moment, he takes the satchel and opens it, then gives her the notebook. It took her barely three pages to understand, fingers pressed to her mouth with an expression of pure horror in her eyes. He doesn't move, doesn't talk, just waits for her to do the first move. It seems forever before she puts the notebook aside and stands up in front of him. Her fingers shake as she raises a hand to caress his check but even then he stands still, not allowing himself to enjoy the imaginary pressure against his skin.

"Do it again." He doesn't even think of the possibility of her saying no, knows her too well for that. He's using her, in a way, using her kindness and her generosity, but both of them know the importance of what she could give him. Both know how dangerous he can be – the memory of a certain scene back in the kitchen in Bristol, the only time he really scared her, is too vivid in her mind – and that she would save more than him, would save many lives. "Save me from myself."

"Oh, Mitchell..." He closes his eyes, blesses his precious little ghost, as her fingers dwell on his cheek. And when her lips, cold and tickling, brush against his, he allows himself to hope everything will be all right.


	2. and once more darkness it descends

Thanks a lot for the comments and favourites, means a lot to me!

* * *

They agree not to tell George and Nina about it – for the baby's sake, he says, but George's integrity is all he has in mind. Corrupting Annie with such dark matters is too much already, Mitchell doesn't want his best friend to focus on anything that is not cribs and bibs. And Nina wouldn't be as understanding as Annie is, so what's the point? Hiding is easier, safer. And if he fails, he'll have to live with Annie's disappointment anyway – that's more than enough to keep him on tracks.

Overcoming the blood lust isn't really the tricky part – he hasn't drunk from someone since... well since Box Tunnel 20, actually. But his mind is dangerous and he could snap again at any moment if he's not careful enough, could kill someone as easily as he did Graham. He doesn't want that, doesn't want to kill anyone, not again.

The nightmares are the worst. Annie has giving up on her midnight rambles and spends endless hours with him in bed. They spend most nights just lying next to each other, legs entangled, whispering. He tells her everything, every death, ever wrong he's done. It takes time and she would end with a headache if she were still alive, but she's strong enough for the both of them and she listens in silence. Her fingers are always in his hair, delicate and soothing. Sometimes, rarely, he sleeps. It's never quiet, and Annie always ends grabbing him as he shivers and mutters in his sleep. More than once, she feels his fangs scratching the bare skin of her shoulder. More than once, she feels lucky to be dead, bloodless.

The bags under his eyes are more and more obvious and the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes when she hands him his cup of tea in the morning. Maybe George and Nina are too busy planning the baby's birth, or maybe they simply choose to ignore Mitchell's state, but neither of them asks questions. Not that Annie and Mitchell mind, anyway. It makes things easier. And, well, if they spend all their time together, it's because they're a couple now, right?

Sometimes, Annie wonders if she'll ever be in a nice healthy relationship.

* * *

Days go by slowly but Nina's belly is already showing. Nothing much happens, which is a relief. Annie spends her days waiting for Mitchell to come home from his shift at the hospital – he swears he can deal with it and she trusts him enough for that. She makes tea and cooks and helps with getting the house ready for the baby. She checks the news, daily, and looks for anything about Box Tunnel 20. But after weeks without evidence, the investigation leads to nothing and, eventually, it stops. They burn the notebook, just in case.

Everything is calm at Honolulu Heights, if you forget about the difficult nights, and it's a good change. It reminds Annie of their life in Totterdown, when things were easy and fun, when Lauren and Herrick and Owen weren't there to create problems.

She's making tea, in the middle of the afternoon, knowing Nina will come home soon. They've planned to go to the mall together to buy new clothes and the mere idea makes her smile. She hears the door slam but doesn't react until strong arms encircle her waist from behind, so fast it makes her scream and jump, and the teapot she was carrying crashes on the floor.

"Mitchell, wha–"

"Hush." It's barely more than a whisper as Mitchell puts a hand on her mouth, a little too harshly perhaps. When he's sure she won't speak, his arm is around her waist again. He hides his face in her hair, his whole body pressed against her back, shivering like crazy. She doesn't move, not even to lay her hands on his, and simply waits for him to calm down – no matter how long it can take.

He inhales deeply in her hair as to soak in her perfume which, well, might be useless as ghost have no smell, until he lets go of her in one last sigh. But he doesn't move away and, slowly, she turns around to look at him. He's a mess, hair entangled and falling on his face, eyes dark – not all vampire but black irises – and pale as death, his breath harsh and quick. She smiles sadly, especially when he kisses her check with a softness she didn't know he had. "Thank you", he whispers against her skin.

"Tea?" she replies, and the simple word makes him laugh, even darkly. Still he nods and sits by the kitchen table as she grabs another teapot – taking care of the broken one will be for later. She busies herself in making the tea, even if the question is on the tip of her tongue. She doesn't need to ask, though.

"Some new nurse, she had to grab a blood pouch and the idiot felt and..." he makes a gesture with his hands, like one would mime an explosion. "Of course, they asked me to clean up the mess."

He doesn't add more, doesn't need to, and they remain silent until the kettle starts whistling. It takes Annie less than a minute before sitting next to him with two mugs in her hands. He takes his with a muttered 'thanks' on his lips.

"Nina arrived and saw me all, well... vampired-up. She shoved me away and started screaming about people being incapable of doing their job. I think she's still yelling at the poor girl now."

Annie smiles, because it's obviously something Nina would do, and rubs his shoulder. Without another word, he leans until his head is on her shoulder and she hugs him. They remain in that position for so long they only move when Nina is finally home. Mitchell flies away so quickly it's as if he's the only able to rent-a-ghost. Nina frowns at the door he just left by, then frowns at the broken teapot on the floor but, as usual, doesn't ask questions.

* * *

George cries during the first ultrasound. Typically George. He squeezes Nina's hand and smiles with the tears rolling down his face, eyes never leaving the screen. It's his reaction, more than seeing the baby, than makes Nina cry too, in the end. The doctor, one of Nina's friends, smiles and gives them more time to admire the baby, even if other patients are waiting. She prints some pictures, even if it's only a little grey bean on a black background, and reassures them on the baby's health. They should have normally waited a few more weeks but things are never normal with them and Nina wanted to be sure the baby was okay after the full moon. With the McNair nowhere to be seen, there's no werewolves to help them anyway, they can only rely on themselves.

"By the way," the doctor asks when Nina is dressed again and they're ready to leave, "you seemed quite precise about the day of conception, but are you sure?"

They share a glance before Nina answers. "Yes, certain. Why, is there something wrong?"

"Wrong, no. Weird..." The doctor gives the pictures a last look before giving them to Nina. "It's not a foetus that's only six week old. I'd say ten, no less."

They share another look, George opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of the water and, were he to speak, his voice would be three octaves higher. Nina blinks, once then twice, before shaking her head. "Yeah, you're right, maybe I counted the weeks wrong."

The doctor seems to believe it or, if she doesn't, she decides not to bring it up. She writes something in Nina's file then makes another appointment for the next ultrasound a month away from now and says goodbye. When the doors closes behind them, George starts panicking in a way only George has the secret.

"George..." and it's enough for him to stop and look at her. "What is a wolf's gestation period?"

The way his eyes almost pop out of his head would make her laugh if the situation wasn't that serious.

* * *

"That's so cool!" Annie wrinkles her nose, the picture inches away from her face, a small grin on her lips. "Do you know if it's a girl yet?"

It makes Nina laugh, because of the fact none of them actually picture the baby as a boy, and it's so good, someone genuinely laughing of happiness. Annie can't remember the last time it happened, can't remember the last she laughed and really meant it. Totterdown was full of laughs and smiles and happiness. Honolulu Heights is just sadness and silence. As grey as her outfit.

"No, it's too soon. Even for our child-wolf, apparently."

Annie hands her the picture back and Nina delicately puts it back in her purse. It surprises nobody, that the pregnancy is influenced by the wolf. They've seen so many weird things, after all, there is no much place for surprises left. Sometimes, Annie wonders if Nina will give birth to a child or a pup, but she's never brave enough to say it out long – even Mitchell would make fun of her, and it would give George a panic attack.

"I'm happy for you," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You're so lucky."

Nina makes a face but doesn't reply. They all know about Annie's will to have a child when she was still alive, and Owen refusing categorically. It's still painful, sometimes, to think about all these things she can no longer have now that she's dead. She sighs and smiles, and that's when Mitchell decides to come home.

He waves at Nina and kisses Annie on the temple, before announcing he's going to take a shower. And with that he's gone, stomping up the stairs in all his vampire grace. Annie follows him with her eyes, even when he's no longer in sight.

"Is, er..." Nina hesitates, doesn't know if her question is appropriate or not. "Is everything okay between you two?"

"Yeah..." The way she dwells on the word doesn't convince anyone, not even herself. But Nina is good at knowing when not to push a subject further so she doesn't press Annie to give more details.

It's actually strange, their little life at Honolulu Heights, two couples living under the same roof but not really caring all that much about each other. (They do care, of course, but never interfere, and that's the weird part for Annie. She's used to interfering in everything.) Sometimes, she wants to tell Nina, about everything, about Mitchell and what he's done, about the fact she wishes she'd be hold by him at night and not the other way around. About their couple that isn't really one and the kisses he doesn't give her. About the fact she's scared, most of the time, scared of what is going to happen once the baby is here, what life is going to be like, which horrors wait for them in the darkness.

Scared of Mitchell, too, even if she loves him.

But it's a bad idea, she knows, and Nina has never been Mitchell's biggest fan anyway. So she remains silence and smiles and makes tea like everyone expects her to.

Nina nods and grabs her purse. "Let's go shopping." And with that, Annie knows, they're done. The moment forgotten, lost in a place of Nina's brain with all things unimportant.


	3. the ghost that we knew

wow I'm sorry it took me for-fucking-ever to write this chapter, but between essays and finale exams I didn't have a minute for myself. Thankfully, I'm on summer break now (yay!) so this fic should be updated more often, as long as I don't get too lazy.  
Have some AnniexMitchell fluff, because I really don't know when those two will manage to be happy and cute together again with what is going to happen soon. Anyway!  
Also, people asked me about the second trio and, while I love them deeply, I have no plan of writing them in that fic now. I'm going to forget about the Old Ones and War Child altogether because I really don't like this plot and it would be too complicated with the plot of this fic anyway. At least Alex is still happy and human somewhere in Scotland and McNair is still alive so there's that!

* * *

Nina has always loved working in the emergency room. There's always been something about the thrill of the moment, the never-ending battle between life and death. It's after a car accident or with a kid who fell down a tree or a bar fight gone wrong that she feels the more useful in her job. That she feels alive.

So, when they arrived to Barry a few months earlier and she was assigned to geriatrics, she was more than a little disappointed. Taking care of old persons left there by their families to die, it isn't thrilling at all. And a little depressing, too.

But now, with the baby sucking all her energy and the backaches that come along, she tells herself that her job isn't half as bad. It's quiet and doesn't require much effort as long as Mr Samson from Room 182 doesn't have his third heart attack of the week. She's actually growing fond of it, if she is honest with herself, and it has a lot to do with the old ladies. Nina already got along well with the different patients before, chatting and smiling, but it's a whole different thing now that she's pregnant. They cocoon her and tell her stories about their own children and grandchildren and she suspects some of them even knit little jumpers and socks for the baby. It's adorable.

She doesn't miss the emergency room that much, after all.

Nina works the same shift every day, compared to George and Mitchell's uneven schedules. It feels good, never worrying about waking up at this or that hour in the morning. She has her habits, the black coffee she drinks alone in the kitchen in the early hours as Annie is still wandering around town (or so she thinks), the pastries she buys on her way to the hospital, the other nurse she chats a bit with in the locker room. And off she goes for the morning shift.

It's barely seven but, as she quickly learnt, old people never sleep in. Most of them are already up and ready for the day, sipping tea and watching the telly in their common room. She always ends with them, talking or playing cards or listening to someone's war stories, until it's nine and time for her to go check on everybody. But it feels good, that little routine, that simple way of going through her day of work.

The key is not to get too attached to the patients. Old people always die, eventually.

* * *

"Hey, you."

In the middle of making a cup of tea, Annie stops and turns around, only to see Mitchell leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. He has his arms folded against his chest and a smile she hasn't seen on his lips in a long time. His eyes sparkle as they lay on her, bringing a smile to her lips too.

"Hey, you", she repeats, her words barely more than a whisper.

For a moment, she gets worried at his happiness, but she knows better. Blood makes him drunk, not joyful like that. And then she forgets about worrying all together, because he crosses the distance between them and his arms comes around her waist, as she crushes against him. His lips find hers, cold against cold, as his fingers play with the hem of her grey sweater, and she finds herself humming against his mouth. None of them fail to notice it is their first real kiss, full of the feelings they always had for each other.

Slow at first, the tickling sensation on the tip of Mitchell's tongue, until Annie's back is against the kitchen counter. It only takes him a swift movement to sit her on it and, as he delicately bits on her bottom lip, her legs settle around his hips. He stops the kiss, only for his lips to discover her jaw, her neck.

"What has you in such a good mood?" she whispers, careful not to raise her voice.

"Spent the day at the beach." He kisses her temple. "Was invigorating." Another kiss, behind her ear. "Missed you, though."

She's about to reply, and maybe he's about to kiss her again, when the front door opens with a bang, startling them both. They freeze, Annie's legs still wrapped around him, staring at each other with surprise, but mostly with the deception to be so suddenly interrupted.

"Annie? Mitchell?" George's voice is at least three octaves too high, even to his standards. "We have a problem."

Mitchell takes the time to brush his nose against Annie's with a smile, before taking a step back. "What happened?" he calls out. "Did you grope a nurse thinking it was Nina again?"

* * *

It's almost noon, which means it's almost the end of Nina's shift. She's checking on every patient one last time, not simply to see if everything is okay with them, but also and mostly to say goodbye. They greet her with toothless smiles and kind words as she comes to them, sometimes even with a joke. Especially Mrs Whiteman, playing the cards with other ladies.

"Don't forget to come back tomorrow, Miss. Maybe you'll see Captain Hatch finally inviting me on a date!"

Nina laughs with a glance at the old man, silent in his wheelchair as he's reading his newspaper, unaware of the old lady's crush for him.

"Isn't him a handsome one, laddie?"

"I can't really say he's my type, I'm afraid," Nina replies with a laugh in her voice.

She pats Mrs Whiteman on the shoulder, and is about to call it a day, when the doors open with a bang. Everyone look to the newcomers, a male nurse pushing a man on a wheelchair, which obviously means a new patient. They are already in the starting blocks for welcome words and whispered gossips. Yet, Nina's face goes pale and she feels like fainting, having to grab the nearby table not to fall. She thinks she hears someone asking her if she's alright, but the sound is muffled and seems far away.

Because it's William Herrick on that wheelchair.

* * *

God knows how she makes her way to the hospital's cafeteria, but it involves a lot of pushing people away and leaning against walls not to faint. She's barely aware of her surroundings until George is in front of her, and even then she's barely able to open her mouth. George is on his feet in a second, panicking and asking about the baby and her health and is she in labour already, speaking too high and too quickly. She shakes her head and points at something above her shoulder, as if it were of any help.

It's only after sitting on a chair and being given a cup of tea that Nina manages to calm down, but George is more nervous than ever by that time. And, when finally able to stand on her feet, she drags him to the hospital wing she came from.

So, of course, George starts panicking too when he sees Herrick sitting in front of the telly with other patients, talking and smiling with Mrs Whiteman as if it were the most natural thing in the world. George looks between him and Nina, once or twice just in case he imagined it, but the vampire doesn't suddenly disappear. Which makes him panic even more, if it's even possible.

"Bu-bu-but… Nina, Nina… It's not possi—it can't be. Nina, I killed him! I don't remember much about that night but, but, I remember that bit! How is it possible Nina? How?!"

He whispers as much as he can, but his voice is so high it could make dogs go crazy, and maybe he's about to break into tears at any moment now. Nina pats his shoulder in what she hopes is a soothing way.

"I know, baby, but…"

"Is it really him?"

She opens her mouth but no sound comes out of it, because she seriously has no idea. Herrick was always good at meddling with the mortals, but there is something different about the blond guy in front of them, something she can't quite put her finger on.

"I'm going to check."

George tries to stop her, to grab her by the arm, but she's already walking toward him. He watches her, helpless, as she kneels in front of Herrick and talks to him, as she quickly glances at the mirror in the corner of the room and smiles at the vampire. Then she's back next to George, looking more confused than scared or relieved.

"He has no reflexion, that much is sure. But he doesn't seem to remember who I am, or who he is for all it matters."

"So it's him… but not him?" George asks, slightly calmer now. "What are we going to do? We obviously can't let an amnesic vampire on the run like that."

"Seems like we only have one option…"

* * *

Mitchell theatrically opens both doors leading to the living room, with a laugh in his voice and Annie following, ready to tease George for hours. But his laugh dies in his throat and he stops – Annie bumps into him with a small cry – at the scene in front of him. Nina helping Herrick to sit on a chair by the window, asking him if he needs anything, with George looking like a child who's been caught stealing sweets.

"What the fuck?" is all he manages to say, and Annie gasps next to him. His first reflex would be to grab her hand in a reassuring manner, but it's past reassuring Annie now. It's defending the household, a question of life and death. His eyes go black as he grabs the nearby chair and breaks it on his knee without an effort. Annie gasps even more loudly, but he barely notices because he's already throwing himself at Herrick, reading to stake him in the heart with the improvised weapon.

It all goes down from there. George tries to stop him, but his strength is nothing compared to Mitchell's and he fails to grab his friend by the shoulder. Nina uses her body as a human shield, and the vampire in him doesn't fucking care if she's caring a pup, because he pushes her away nonetheless, and maybe she hits the table and falls, but he doesn't care either. Herrick backs away, scared, terrified, which makes Mitchell laugh darkly. Of course he would be a coward while facing his vampire son and about to die. It's a game of cat and mouse from them, running after Herrick in the living room and pushing him against the wall and the furniture, the screams of the others barely more than a whisper to his ears. George tries again to stop him, and fails again, because Mitchell finally grabs Herrick by the neck and pins him against the wall with a maniac laugh.

And, really, Herrick would be dead already, if it wasn't for Annie rent-a-ghosting between them and crying one big "STOP!"

So, of course, Mitchell stops. He doesn't let go of Herrick but he stops, and stares hopelessly at Annie.

"He needs to be killed."

"He's not himself right now!" George comes behind him. "He doesn't remember who he is."

"All the more reasons to do it now. Easiest that way."

"You can't kill an innocent man, Mitchell! Even by your standards, it's low."

"For fuck's sake, Nina, you don't know what you're talking about!"

They keep arguing, so loudly the neighbours are probably going to call the police, and at some point Mitchell even lets go of Herrick, who pathetically sit on the floor in a corner of the room with his head between his knees. It's mostly Mitchell against Nina and George, trying to have them understand the importance of killing him as soon as possible, because Herrick is one of the most dangerous creatures on Earth.

None of them notice Annie backing away too, tears rolling down her cheeks, as they argue louder and louder.

"Would you rather have him killing you? Think, George! Think about Nina, about your child!"

"I've already tried to kill him. Once is more than enough!"

"I'm not asking you to do it! I can do it myself, I can…"

"MITCHELL!"

They're so focused on their argument that they're all startled by Annie's scream, far louder than any of them.

"WASN'T THE TRAIN MASSACRE ENOUGH?"

* * *

In a small hospital room, blue eyes go red.


	4. up against the wall

I'm still learning to update more often, I swear. Anyway, this chapter is shorter than usual but there's some bittersweet Annie/Mitchell in it so I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!

* * *

All the lights flicker in the house, startling George with a high pitched scream when a light-bulb explodes not far from his head. Still, all eyes are for the mess of a person that Annie is in that moment. Tears are running down her face freely, her ghostly make-up leaving black smudges on her cheeks, her eyes big and red. Her body is shivering, and with it the whole house – by the sound of it, many mugs and glasses have fallen down their shelves in the kitchen. But, despite that and Herrick's low whining in a corner of the room, it's dead silent. The three of them staring at Annie staring at Mitchell.

It's a glaring contest, actually, with Mitchell's face distorted by pain and hurt, but mostly by the feeling of betrayal. He's on the verge of tears too, but knows how to hold it back. After longs seconds of an oppressing silence, George starts looking back and forth between them as Annie's words register in his mind.

"Wh–what.. Mitchell, what is she... What are you... Mitchell?!"

Nina tentatively grabs his arm as she begins to understand too. It is Annie who replies, though, her voice low and emotionless, her eyes not leaving the vampire. "Tell them."

Mitchell remains still, if it's not for a small shake of the head. His eyes are wide, almost crazy, but he closes them painfully when George asks "tell us what?", because if there's one thing Mitchell doesn't want, it's his best friend to hate him. And hate he will, once he learns what has been done, once he learns his old roommate's dark secret – the darkest of all.

"Tell them!" Annie repeats, a little louder this time, almost angrily.

Mitchell's face shifts, from shock to anger too, clenching his fists and jaw. All he wants to do is turn his eyes black while staring at her, as a warning, as telling her she went too far this time. But it's too late already, the damage is done, and Annie would never forgive him. He can't bare to lose them both, even if he knows George will never speak to him again.

And maybe Annie knows him too much, because she understands he won't tell a word, isn't brave enough to confess his sins. To be honest, he's a bit surprised at how steady her voice is when she speaks again. "He killed them. All those people in the train massacre in Bristol, it was him."

_And Daisy_, he wants to add, but it wouldn't help his cause. So he keeps his mouth shut, and there's a moment of silence between them, still in this staring contest with Annie. He can almost feel the idea settling in George's mind and it's too much to handle.

So Mitchell does what he always does in those moments. He runs away and locks himself in his room.

* * *

They don't move, not even when Mitchell's door slams above their heads. They probably don't even notice Annie is done with her Poltergeist moment, as the lights stop flickering, or that Herrick is now as silent as they are. None of them dare moving, if it's not for Nina patting George's arm mechanically, as if on autopilot. Annie doesn't know how long they remain still, but at some point she blinks.

When she opens her eyes, she has rent-a-ghosted in her room. So she plops in her armchair and does something she's been avoiding ever since Mitchell brought her back from Purgatory. She bursts into tears.

* * *

In the middle of the night, when the tears have dried on her cheeks and she's sure George and Nina are in bed, she rent-a-ghosts in Mitchell's bedroom. He lies in bed, his back to her, but she knows he's awake and doesn't need to tell him she's here; he always knows when she appears in a room, always feels her presence, in some weird way none of them understands. Now is no different.

"Go away." His words are barely more than a whisper but harsh. Harsher than he's even been with her. But she doesn't move and the seconds pass by until he sighs and turns around to face her. "I really don't want to talk to you right now, so get out."

She tries to ignore the sob at the back of his throat when he speaks, and takes a tentative step forward. Then another. And another, until she's standing next to him, her legs against the frame of the bed. He glares at her, because Annie is nothing but stubborn, but so is he. And hurt, truly hurt, which makes him angry and heartless.

"Your relationship with Owen never taught you the importance of pillow talks?"

It stings, and he immediately regrets saying it, for Annie takes a step back and folds her arms against her chest to shield herself from him. He takes that as an opportunity to finally sit up, still glaring at her and wondering when they became so good at those staring contests.

"They needed to know", she finally whispers.

It's not a big argument, but it's a convincing one, and it upsets him even more."Yeah, they did. But not like that."

"So you expected me to say nothing and to let you kill Herrick?"

"Yes!"

The word is sharp and Mitchell stands up to face her, the movement so sudden that she takes another step back. She can't remember the last time they fought over something other than which show to watch on a Saturday night. It's a first, and it frightens her as much as the coldness in her vampire's eyes.

"I won't allow you to be a murderer. Not anymore."

He closes his eyes and lets a sharp breath out. "I'm not doing this out of pleasure."

"Oh, aren't you? Because it actually looks like you enjoy it."

"That's not fair."

"No! Taking innocent people's lives isn't fair."

"Herrick isn't innocent!"

"Those people in the train were!"

He opens his mouth, uselessly, until offering her a small, unamused, chuckle. "It never was about Herrick." And it's not a question, it's a fact.

She's honest enough to shake her head, even if she's no longer able to look at him in the eyes. That is, until he cups her face in his hands for her to look at him. The anger in his eyes is gone, leaving place to guilt. "I'm not proud of what I've done. Especially since I've done it because of... of _her_." He spits the word like venom on his tongue. "Ivan was dead and Daisy wanted revenge, and it was too easy to help her. Not that I'm trying to justify it... But I'm a vampire. That's who I am – were. You know what I've done. But if you can't trust me when I say I won't do it again..."

His words linger in the air.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

Her voice is weak and his eyes wide, then he wraps her in a hug, his arms tight around her petite body. He kisses her cheeks and her hair, murmuring words of apologize and no, no, of course not, he would be the biggest prat in the world to let her go. She knows it's stupid, thinking about that when there are more important things to deal with, but she also knows how important this relationship is to him – to the both of them. So she hugs him back and let him comfort her, because it feels good to be taken care of for once.

At some point they settle in the bed, hidden beneath the blanket and from the world. He never lets go of her, even when he falls asleep, exhausted, with a "I love you so much" on his lips.

* * *

George is trying to finally wake up, as hard as it is, a mug of hot coffee in his hands. It's barely more than five in the morning, his shift beginning at six, but calming down Herrick and settling him in the attic took time, leaving him barely more than a few hours of sleep. He takes a mouthful of toast, trying not to yawn while he's at it, as he rubs his eyes with the back of a hand. That's the moment Mitchell decides to enter the room, and he freezes in the door frame. They awkwardly stare at each other, none of them daring to speak first, then Mitchell turns around and goes back upstairs.

George is left alone with his coffee, and he sips it slowly, until it's Annie's time to appear. Silence again as she's making a cup of tea and some toasts that she puts in a plate. George rolls his eyes.

"I'm not going to stake him for taking his breakfast in the kitchen."

She stopped by the door frame, and George would find it kind of cute, how much the ghost and the vampire look like one another, were the circumstances different. Annie shrugs. "You should tell him then." And she rent-a-ghosts.

"No, because we're all acting like five year-old," he replies to the emptiness of the room.

* * *

Please, share your thoughts!  
Next time: social services and vampires. Lots of them. (Okay, just one.)


	5. bad blood

It took me a month to update and I'm so sorry! I got so busy with school/job stuff and didn't have time to sit and actually write. Not to mention having to rewatch a whole episode of Being Human to write the chapter and, well, series 4 is kinda hard to watch if we're honest.  
I hope you will enjoy this chapter anyway.

* * *

In the end, and to nobody's surprise, it's Nina who does it.

Both Mitchell and George are finally off to work, not in the same car of course, but it's Nina's day off. Annie tries her best to avoid being in the same room for too long, and it makes things even more awkward than they already are. But Nina is cranky and tired and too busy taking care of Herrick-but-not-really to care about the ghost. That is, until someone rings the bell in the middle of the morning. Nina makes her way to the door, Annie rent-a-ghosts next to her in a instant, and the two women spend long seconds staring at each other in disbelief.

Truth be told, neither of them knew the bell actually worked for nobody has ever rang it before.

With a nod from Nina, Annie goes to check the window while the blonde ducks behind the bar counter to grab a stake - just in case. The ghost delicately moves the curtains away, trying not to be seen (or not seen, if it happens to be a human) doing so.

"Woman, mid-thirty. Obviously doesn't know how to dress because that skirt is so 2009..."

Nina can't help but snort at that, but quickly grows serious again. "Human or supernatural?"

"I'd say human." She winces as the woman, who looks so nervous she might have drunk too much coffee already, tries not to let all the folders she's caring fall at her feet. If Annie had to use a single word to describe her, it would be 'mess', without a doubt. "She looks like the social worker in my secondary school."

Annie realises what she's saying when the words are out of her mouth, and she stares at Nina, who sighs heavily and rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. "She's there for Herrick," the nurse says as the woman rings the bell a second time. "Go and fetch George, we'll probably need him here."

"What about..."

"George." It sounds like an order, Nina's voice sharp and seriously, and Annie doesn't even dare opening her mouth again, rent-a-ghosting to the hospital instead.

* * *

The woman from the social services is called Wendy and is so neurotic Annie wonders how she managed to get the job in the first place. George and she came back from the hospital as soon as possible and now it's all about paperwork and boring stuff. Annie sits on the bar counter, watching the scene as a bird of prey as Herrick says he's happy in the house and that Nina takes good care of him, nice enough not to talk about what happened with Mitchell the night before. Things go surprisingly smoothly, especially knowing who they're dealing with. That is, until Mitchell comes back from work.

They all freeze, staring at him, as he tries to understand what is going on in the living room and to ignore Nina's death glare. Wendy introduces herself to him, offering her hand to shake, but he only gives her some kind of smile before fleeing to the kitchen. Annie jumps on her feet and follows him without a word. He leans against the table and, as she comes near him, grabs her by the waist. She stays in his arms while George and Nina are showing the house to Wendy, who is done with the paperwork and gone in less than half an hour, Herrick back in the room they gave him.

The two werewolves join them in the kitchen as soon as the door is close.

"You did well," Mitchell says, his voice sharp but grateful, looking at Nina.

"Somebody had to do it." And it's obvious in her tone that she doesn't want Mitchell's approval or thanks. They all stand awkwardly, avoiding each other's gaze, knowing a single word could start a new fight. Not talking about it seems like the best thing to do for now - as long as Herrick is in the house, at least.

"So... tea?"

Mitchell chuckles lightly at Annie's false chipper behaviour, but stopped as sound as the bell rings.

"Seriously?" Nina mutters under her breath, putting in a single word what they're all thinking.

George, who's the closest to the hallway, leaves the room with a sigh. They hear his footsteps in the hallway, the sound of the first door opening, then the second and... a long shriek as he slams the door. Annie rent-a-ghosts, followed closely by Mitchell and Nina, and they all stare at George who's in the middle of what looks like a panic attack. He stutters and gasps and does everything George does in those moments, making it impossible to understand what he's trying to say.

"Come on, doggie! Open the door!" comes from outside, which results in George pointing at the door and speaking in an even more high-pitched voice.

"Jesus Christ, not her!" is all Mitchell manages to say. He motions to everybody else to go to the living room, and they do so without a word, overtaken by the events. When he opens the door, it's with a dangerous smirk on his lips. "Cara! What owns me the pleasure?"

She looks like shit, smells even worse and, for a second, he regrets not killing her when he had the opportunity. She also completely ignores his question. "Where's my captain?"

"Oh but darling, you know we killed him a long time ago."

She's thrown off, even for a second, by what looks like ignorance on Mitchell's face. That is, until her whole ugly face lightens up as she looks above his shoulder. "My captain! My love!"

Having just gone down the stairs, Herrick freezes, a look of pure horror on his face as he sees Cara. Mitchell had seen him like that only once in all those years of knowing him - the previous day, when he had attacked him. Sensing something is wrong, Nina is next to him in a second, and he grabs her arm in panic, which makes Mitchell chuckles even so lightly. "Don't - don't let her come close to me", he says, eyes still on Cara.

"It's me, my love!" She hangs on to the doorframe, not actually daring to enter the house even if she looks desperate to come closer to Herrick. It makes Mitchell a bit sick, her adoration and their ugly couple. He quickly glances at Annie, who's watching the scene from the living room, as disgusted as he is.

"Go away, Cara."

"Never!" Her shout startles Herrick in a high-pitched cry - or maybe the sound comes from George, who knows - and even Mitchell is surprised by her conviction. Stupid vampire and their stupid stubbornness. Staking her here and there would be half bad, if it wasn't for everyone watching him. He wasn't delusional enough to think he could get away with her death, after their argument of the previous night. It is only Herrick's threat that has them not tearing each other's head for now, after all. But it doesn't mean he can't scare Cara a bit.

"Go. Away."

His eyes are black as he stands straighter, his mouth opened to show his fangs. I should have killed her, he thinks again when she doesn't flinch. And she actually takes him by surprise because something suddenly rolls between his feet and slides all the way to Herrick.

Mitchell watches, powerless, as Herrick picks up a small bottle full of a dark red liquid.

* * *

Everything happens in an instant. Cara shouts "drink it, captain" as Herrick sniffs the bottle. His eyes go black, his fangs appear, but he doesn't look that surprised about it. The bottle cap pops with a motion of his thumb. By some reflex, George grabs Annie and puts himself in front of her, because he can't do it with Nina, who's still next to Herrick and looks at Mitchell with fear in her eyes, a hand on her belly. Cara starts laughing and it's all Mitchell needs to punch her, and it makes her fall down the three stairs in front of the house - she keeps laughing. Herrick, of course, tastes the blood.

It all happens in a few seconds but it's as if time has slowed down, allowing them to see every detail, every move. And then, it all goes too fast, too blurry.

Herrick glares at George, and there's no doubt he recognizes his killer. But it's Nina's throat he grabs, right next to him, instead of attacking George. Everybody gasps, Mitchell ready to jump on his maker and to put an end on all this madness with a stake to the heart. Herrick just chuckles.

"So you turned her into a bitch and impregnated her? Good job, Georgie."

George replies "don't touch her" as Mitchell grows a "Herrick, stop" they both wish to sound menacing enough. It only makes the vampire smirk even more as he glances at Nina.

"I'm sorry, love, you were so nice to me but life has always been unfair." He clenches her throat even more, until she gasps for air, then stares at Mitchell. "I will kill your dogs, and then I'll make sure to burn down this house, and maybe even the house in Bristol, just to be sure your little ghost turns to dust too. And then I'll make you regret turning your back on me, Johnny boy."

Annie rent-a-ghosts next to Mitchell, her hand on his forearm, something that doesn't escape Herrick. He goes for a laugh then, long and evil, almost caricatural, like a Disney bad guy. That is, until the laugh turns into something else, like a choke gasp. His eyes are wide with surprise, his skin turning to stone until forming a little pile of dust and clothes. Nina stands there, stake in hand. The stake she had grabbed earlier that day, forgotten in the back pocket of her jeans. She looks almost crazy, like that day Lucy found them in the middle of nowhere.

"Fucking bloodsucker", she mutters under her breath.

In the end, and to nobody's surprise, it's the she-wolf protecting her pack.

* * *

So yeah, bye Herrick!  
Please, review and tell me what you think about it!


	6. after the storm

WARNING: mentions of anorexia and suicide.

I've been asked about the McNairs again and, no, I'm not planning to add them to the fic any time soon. Maybe at the end, we'll see. But Tom and McNair are living their life in the woods now, roll with it.  
Please, read and review!

* * *

When Mitchell finally goes outside to throw Herrick's clothes in the bin, in the darkness of the night, Cara is nowhere to be see. Not that he minds, really, he's actually quite relieved she was clever enough to run away not to get herself killed too. For a second, he wonders if she'll go back to Bristol and tell what she saw, but he shrugs it off quickly. Nobody would believe her anyway, not when everybody knows Herrick was already killed by George years ago. No when nobody believes a vampire can be brought back to life. Mitchell himself is still a bit skeptical about the whole thing, and he knew such a thing could happen, even if he lacks the details. But nobody in their right mind would believe Cara to have brought back Herrick to life only to have him killed again in a matter of days. Herrick was supposed to be cleverer and more powerful than that, after all.

With a heavy sigh, Mitchell slams the bin lid and goes back inside, only to sigh again at the mess in front of him. Well, not really a mess, but something problematic enough to have him alert again. Nina on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, fixing the wall and not saying a word. Part of him, the part that had come to enjoy George's girlfriend before the whole Lucy mess, feels bad for her. It's her first kill. She was the only one in the house without blood on her hands and they made her a monster too. He wants to feel bad for her, really wants, because nobody should go through that. But he knows that, somehow, the blame will fall on him anyway, and it erases what little empathy he has about the werewolf.

Annie brings her a cup of tea, because everybody know tea always solves everything, and she smiles at Mitchell. He smiles back, as softly as he can, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He takes the first occasion given to him to lock himself in his room and hide.

It's not cowardice if people don't want to have you around.

* * *

The knock on his door is soft, too softy to be Annie - and she had given up on knocking a long time ago, making herself at home wherever she was. Mitchell stands up lazily to open the door, frowning at George in front of him in a silent question. George who's fidgeting and playing with his hands and purposefully avoiding his graze.

Mitchell sighs. "Listen, mate, I'm sorry that Nina had to do it. I would have done it if..."

"Our shift starts in half an hour, we're going to be late if we don't leave now."

"Oh" is all Mitchell manages to say as a reply to George's quick sentence, like the words were falling from his mouth as fast as possible. Still avoiding to look at his friend in this eyes, he misses Mitchell's stiff nod. "Fine. Let me get dress, is all."

He changes into a shirt that seems clean enough and grabs his fingerless gloves, putting them on as he runs down the stairs. He meets Annie in the hallway, two cups of tea in her hands and offering her cheek for him to kiss. It makes him smile, how she manages to be that adorable no matter what, and he takes his time to kiss her, properly kiss her on the mouth, before leaving the house. He makes sure not to glance at Nina, still on the couch, on his way out.

The ride to the hospital is awkward at best, with George trying to focus too hard on the road in an attempt to truly ignore Mitchell. None of them say a word, without even the radio to break the silence of the car. It was their thing, once upon a time, listening to the radio and making fun of silly songs and singing along to some Adele tune. Well, Mitchell would sing out of key and George would pretend to be embarrassed and hide his laugh, but it was their thing and Mitchell misses it. Now it's just this awkward silence not to yell at each other.

They make it to the hospital soon enough, not even late for their shift, and change to their scrubs in silence. "I'll wait for you in the car after our shift," George says before leaving the locker room. It's a start, Mitchell thinks, already less bitter than the previous day, and he hopes the situation will get better from there.

George has never been known to hold a grudge.

* * *

The hospital is quiet that day, to Mitchell's relief. Vampires don't need that much sleep, it's true, but he's exhausted nonetheless, yawning and gripping his mop not to doze off. The rooms he has to clean are nothing more than a blur to him, already hoping to be back home and in bed with Annie. A good night of sleep, that's all he needs right now.

He's so close to the end of his shift, only one room left to clean, that it almost have him smile despite his tiredness. He knocks at the door and waits to be invited in before entering. The girl sits on her bed, cross-legged, a laptop in front of her, and she quickly glances at him with a 'hello', only to double-check and stare. He scoffs.

"Hello," she says again, trying to sound flirtatious, and Mitchell tries hard not to roll his eyes. It's not the first time and certainly not the last that one of the patients notices him; he doesn't mind much. She's a teenager, barely more than seventeen, skinny and pale and sickly, with an IV in her arm and wrists that could break like glass. He's seen them before, those kids locked in hospitals because of their eating disorders, and this one is no different.

So he smiles back and greets her back before starting to clean her room. She goes back to her laptop, checking the textbook open next to her one in a while. He cleans the little bathroom, and then empties her bin, quickly glancing at her computer screen while he's at it.

"1641," he says out of nowhere, and the girl glances at him, an eyebrow raised. He points at her screen, "the Great Rebellion in Ulster was in 1641, not 1642."

She frowns, even when changing the date in her essay, and barely mutters her thanks, letting Mitchell go back to his work while she keeps typing. He's almost done when she closes book and laptop and pushes them aside, shifting in her position so that she's hugging her legs with her chin on her knees, staring at him.

"Are all Paddies as good at history as you are?"

It makes him chuckle, brushing aside the insult - he's been called worse. "Only the underpaid ones."

She smiles too, a toothy grin that lights up her eyes. That's when she decides to ask him some random question, as to test him, and he answers in a heartbeat. Soon enough, they're throwing history facts at each other, and he's amazed at her knowledge - being locked in hospitals does that to you, she says, and he's tactful enough not to ask how long she's been there. Instead they talk about the Great War, which is bittersweet to him, but she seems to know so much about it that he doesn't have to correct her much. Nothing to have her wonder how a simple cleaner can know so much about history.

They talk and talk and talk until a knock on the door make them both jump. George shyly enters the room, barely able to hide his relief at Mitchell not having killed the girl yet, which have the vampire roll his eyes. He can't really blame his friend for that, not with the events of the past few days.

"Ah... Hm, hello..." he says, and the girl smiles back, "Mitchell, our shift ended an hour ago and..."

"Jeez, really?" He glances at the clock on the wall, and indeed it's late in the morning already. He jumps on his feet. "Sorry, man, I was talking with..."

He glances back at the girl, only now realising he doesn't even know her name. "Elizabeth."

He nods. "Lizzy here who just loves history and, yeah..."

The girl blushes at the nickname, which makes Mitchell smiles until George frowns and grabs him by the arm. It only makes Mitchell chuckles.

"Bye, Lizzy!"

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, love."

He barely has time to see her blush even more before George drags him outside of the room and closes the door.

"Mitchell, what are you doing?" His smile flattens at George's serious face, but he only shrugs as an answer. "You can't just go around and-and-and make teenage girls fall in love with you!" His voice is up two octaves already, his hands moving fast with each word.

"Come on, George, she's just a kid." Deep down, he knows his thirst makes him dangerous to humans, especially since he's so exhausted, putting the girl in danger by his mere presence by her side. Yet, he doesn't know how to explain how right and good it fells, actual human conversations with actual human beings. It makes him think about Bristol and their neighbours and... Well, it feels good, for some reason.

"Don't kill her, okay?" George asks stiffly, and there's something in his eyes that reminds Mitchell they still have issues and those need to be resolved. Soon. So he simply nods and follows George down the hallways.

* * *

Something is wrong. Something smells wrong. It smells like bleach, which shouldn't be surprising because he's working in a damn hospital and he uses bleach everyday to clean and scrub and sterilize stuff. But that smell of bleach is different, stronger, as if someone has used too much of it, as to covering another smell. It's weird, and it has all his vampire senses on the alert.

Still, he puts on his best smile as he opens the door. Only to find an empty room. He frowns, takes a look at the bathroom, but Elizabeth is nowhere to be seen. And neither is her laptop, or her books, or even her chart for all it matters. Mitchell goes back to the hallway, calls after a nurse. Sandy or Sally or what's her name again. She comes near him and he asks her where the girl is, if she's been transferred to another room or another service or something. He doesn't expect the answer she gives him.

The girl killed herself during the night.

And just like that, the nurse goes back to her own work, leaving Mitchell alone in the hallway, staring at the room as if not really seeing it. No, impossible. No, she can't be, she can't have... There's something wrong. He can't quite explain, he can't quite put his finger on the detail that makes the whole picture wrong but it is there, on the tip of his tongue, smelling like bleach. Bleach covering the walls, for some reason, as to clean up the death from the room. It wrong, it's all too wrong. The girl looked happy enough and was obviously looking forward to seeing him today. It's wasn't a mask she was putting on, because you only do that with doctors and family, to pretend everything is fine. It wasn't that. She was okay.

He pretends to be sick and goes back home. He grabs Annie by the wrist and drags her to their bedroom and force her to lay by his side, and they spend the rest of the day there, his head on her shoulder and her fingers in his hair. He doesn't tell her, because Annie is a lot of things but mostly she's jealous and he doesn't need that kind of drama now. He tells her it's nothing vampire-y, he didn't try to kill anyone. And Annie, perfect little Annie that she is, just comforts him because he needs it.

Downstairs, George is doing the same with Nina.

Everything feels very wrong.


End file.
